Betraying the Mob - KU

by Luciani, Kristen

  The doors open, and we get in. “So,” she says, a teasing smile on her lips. “Is he coming to the benefit with you?”

  The elevator pings and we step into the hallway in the Pediatric Oncology Unit. I pat the top of my bun and shove a couple of loose strands of hair behind my ear. I try to mute the questions peppering my mind. “Yeah, but who knows what’ll happen after that? I think he’s just coming to show moral support anyway.”

  “Wow, so I finally get to meet this guy whom I’d chalked up to be an urban legend?”

  “Yes. Moral support or not, he wants to be at the benefit.” I bite down on my lower lip. He never made me any promises. “But I’m not getting my hopes up. Things he said to me that night…I don’t know…he’s never opened up like that. Ever, and I’ve known him practically for my whole life. I just don’t want to pretend it’s something that it’s not, you know?”

  “If I were you, I’d keep pretending. It’s worth all the orgasms. Trust me, there are too many guys out there who think good sex is when they come.”

  I roll my eyes. “Noted.”

  Jules winks at me. “And now that you’re occupied with Mad Max, what about poor Dr. Kiley? He’s going to be heartbroken.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be just fine, especially since you tend to make a lot of this stuff up in that pretty little head of yours.”

  She runs a hand through her glossy dark ponytail and swivels in the direction of the elevator. “I’m heading back down. Let me know if you’re in the mood to share any of the erotic details later. I’ll save you a seat at the lunch table.”

  I swat at her ass. “What would I do without my supportive friend?”

  “Well, now I know who you’d do.” She winks and disappears back into the elevator.

  I smooth down the front of my scrubs and take a deep breath. The agitation still pools in my belly, but I ignore it. I can’t worry about Max’s extracurricular activities right now. I need to focus on something much more important. The doors leading to the Pediatric Oncology Unit are painted a bright yellow, and the walls are alive with brightly colored flowers, trees, butterflies…all the makings of a beautiful and cheerful spring day. But beyond those doors, there is an ominous cloud that looms. No matter how much positivity we feed this wing, the deep-rooted fear is still ever-present.

  I take a deep breath and hit the button to open the double doors. Little voices echo in the expansive space, and just being here makes me smile.

  “Nurse Sloane! You’re here! Are you going to play in our Fortnite Championship?” One of the little boys, Ian, asks me.

  I bend down and give the bill of his baseball cap a little tug. “Sorry, pal. I can’t today. We have a new patient named Eli, and I’m going to meet him.”

  “Did you find a really cool buddy for him yet?”

  I smile. “Not yet. I need to find out a little bit about him first, you know? I want to make sure I find him the perfect buddy.”

  “I think Eli is really sad.” Cassie, one of the little girls, frowns. “I tried to say hi last night, but he told me to go away. I feel bad for him. I hope his buddy can help him.”

  I give Cassie a quick hug. “Well, that’s the plan. I want to find just the right person for him, someone who can make him happy, because you know what all of the doctors and nurses say, right?”

  “To stay happy and positive. That’s how we beat the cancer.” Cassie smiles. “We need to make Eli happy and positive, too.”

  “Exactly.” I stand up and wave to the other kids playing in the large alcove. “So wish me luck. I’m going to meet him now.”

  “Good luck!” Cassie and Ian say in unison, returning to their game.

  I stop by the nurses’ station and grin at the head nurse, Clara. “Good morning!”

  “My, my, don’t you look chipper this morning, sweetie!” Clara leans in. “Did you have a hot date last night?”

  “No, actually, I’ve been here since last night.” I snicker. “The only big date I had was with a pile of patient charts.”

  Clara laughs. “Well, that couldn’t have been too steamy, now could it?”

  I tighten my ponytail and laugh. “Not if you count gangrene, a flare-up of irritable bowel syndrome, and a severed finger to be super sexy.”

  “Not even close. I have no desire to live vicariously through you, sweetie. No offense.”

  I wink at Clara. “None taken.”

  “So you’re going to see Eli, hmm?” Clara shakes her head. “Poor thing. He’s having a really rough time. You know, his older brother is really the one taking care of him right now. Mother is a junkie who just got picked up for possession after the diagnosis came in. I guess she couldn’t handle it. The father took off years ago. I don’t think they have any contact with him anymore. It’s bad, sweetie. And I don’t know that a buddy is going to help with his problems. But I’m sure your smiling face will cheer him up a bit.”

  My heart clenches. Un-freaking-believable. “Is Social Services involved?”

  “Well, the brother is twenty-one years old, so he is the legal guardian. Social Services can’t do much about that.”

  I furrow my brow, scanning his chart. Acute something or other leukemia. “Does the brother know what he’s in for? Does he go to school or work? How is he going to do this on his own?”

  “The doctors have discussed everything with him, and he said he will do whatever Eli needs.” Clara covers my hand with her own. “Sweetie, you know you can’t solve everyone’s problems. I can see the wheels turning behind those pretty eyes of yours. You take on way too much, and it isn’t healthy for you. Your job is to give him something to look forward to, a shoulder to cry on, someone to make him laugh, someone to comfort him when he’s feeling sad or scared.”

  I let out a deep sigh. “I know, it’s just that I hate these kinds of cases. How can such deadbeats become parents? How can you hear your son has just been diagnosed with a serious, potentially terminal illness, and you shove the responsibility at your other kid and go get blasted as an escape? I mean, how do you live with yourself? That poor kid doesn’t need a buddy. He needs his freaking parents!” I slap a hand on the top of the desk. “Okay! I have to get back to happy Sloane and leave pissed-off Sloane here with you.” I wink at Clara. “Sorry about that. I’ll be by later to pick her up.”

  “I love your alter-ego, too, so take your time, sweetie.”

  I turn down one of the hallways toward Room 16. My sneakers squeak on the freshly scrubbed tile floor, and I stop outside of the door, taking in a deep breath. The sharp smell of antiseptic cleaner fills my lungs and I let it out, along with all of the anxiety of meeting this new patient. I inch toward the door and knock twice before entering.

  Eli is sitting up in his bed. He stares at an open book in his hands, never lifting his head.

  “Eli,” I say in a soft voice. “My name is Nurse Sloane. I just wanted to stop by to say hello.” I creep closer to the bed, taking ginger steps, not wanting to upset him at all. “Can I get you anything? Are you hungry or thirsty?”

  Still no response. I can’t blame him. Being diagnosed with this kind of a disease at his age, dealing with the loss of the only parent you know, feeling scared, alone, and helpless…it all makes my stomach roll.

  He raises his dark eyes to mine, narrows them, and says in a biting tone, “Why don’t you just get out of here? I didn’t ask for anything, and I don’t want anything.”

  I bite my lower lip. “Eli, I…I don’t understand what you’re feeling right now, so I won’t pretend by saying I do. What I do know is that there are people here who want to make you as comfortable as possible and to help you get well. That’s what I do. So, while you might not want anyone around right now, when you decide you do, I’ll be here.”

  His eyes fill with tears and he clenches the bed sheet, forgetting about the book in his lap. “Did anyone tell you I don’t have a dad? Or that my mom is a drug addict who’d rather get high than be with me, her sick son?”

  I no
d. “I can’t imagine how hard—”

  “No, you can’t.” A deeper voice comes from the doorway, and I spin around with a gasp to find a taller version of Eli standing behind me with the same hardened look on his face.

  “Oh, you must be Eli’s brother. My name is Nurse Sloane. I just wanted to stop by to say hello and to see if he needed anything.”

  Eli’s brother nods. “I’m Tommy. And thanks for stopping by, but we have everything we need.”

  “O-okay,” I stammer. Eli is still glaring at me, and Tommy crosses the room without so much as a passing glance. “I guess I’ll just go.”

  “Thanks.” Tommy’s voice makes my heart ache, but I know there isn’t any more I can do for them right now. They need time together to come to terms with Eli’s illness and his prognosis, which, according to his chart, isn’t good.

  I turn to leave the room, and Tommy’s voice softens for his little brother.

  “I brought you my iPad.” There is a rustling of a bag and then a few pings, dings, and bleeps of a video game. The music forces my lips into a sad smile.

  He’s a Fortnite fan, too.

  I pull the door closed behind me and tears spring to my eyes. I love what I do. I love that this program can bring slivers of happiness to kids when they need it most.

  But God, I hate that I need to do it.

  Max

  I scrub a hand down the front of my face and pick through the stack of papers on my desk. My eye falls to the corner of my office where a lone Louisville Slugger baseball bat stands against a file cabinet.

  Sometimes when I look at it, my fingers actually twitch a little, like they’re going through withdrawal or some shit like that. I keep it there to remind me of the reasons why it’s no longer in the trunk of my car.

  A normal life. A steady, respectable for the most part, job. A somewhat solid future.

  But most of all, Sloane.

  These are the things that keep me focused.

  Ninety-nine percent of the time.

  But then memories bubble up without warning…like the one where Gabe’s bloody body flashes before my eyes.

  All because of me.

  I didn’t handle shit the right way on Thanksgiving. I let rage control my actions, and my buddy got fucking iced because of it.

  Mikey knew what he was doing when he snatched Layla. He knew I’d show up without an army of soldiers. He knew he’d get my ear, plant the seed, and then let us walk. He wanted his message to be heard, that he was on his way up again, as the head of his own family, and we’d better be ready for him. Back when Cappodamo was alive, Mikey was just the messenger. A nobody. All muscle, no brains.

  He’s still dumb as fuck, but now he’s got a lot of clueless and dangerous degenerates looking for leadership since the heads of the Cappodamo crime family were wiped out.

  By us.

  More specifically by Nico and Shaye, the ones least likely to fire guns.

  Who the fuck could have predicted that?

  And now Mikey is picking up the pieces and putting them all together, making promises to his minions that he’ll line their pockets with cash if they give him the loyalty he needs to take over and do business under his own family name.

  King of the dipshits.

  He has no desire to do anything legitimate. Flying under the radar has never been his MO. He’s like a peacock, shaking his ass feathers so everyone knows he’s there. And he’s been shaking them since Luca Cappodamo was dropped six feet under, ending the legacy of the Cappodamo family.

  I fist my hair. I shouldn’t be thinking about any of this. It’s not my place anymore.

  It never really was, but that didn’t stop me from going out to Brooklyn that Thanksgiving night. It didn’t stop me from walking into a death trap with no regard for who or what I’d left behind.

  “You’re a thug, Max. That’s all you’ll ever be. It’s the only thing you’re good at.”

  With one sweep of my hand, all of the papers littering my desk are now scattered on the floor. I groan and collapse against the back of my chair. Because putting those fucking piles together again is gonna help me keep my shit together, right?

  And now I have a real reason to do it.

  “Doing a little early spring cleaning?” Nico appears in the doorway, holding out an espresso from Starbucks.

  “Well, since you made me fire the cleaning crew, I figured…” I shrug, a smirk lifting my lips. I nod at the cup. “You don’t think I’m wound up enough these days? You figured I really need more caffeine, huh?”

  Nico puts the cup in front of me and takes a long gulp of his own. “Listen, I know this has been a shitty few weeks for you. I’m here to see what you need. Let me help you out if I can.”

  “I don’t need help.”

  “So, the construction plans are moving along without any issues? You’ve got all of the supplies and labor you need, for the agreed-upon price…”

  I let out a deep sigh and push back from the desk. “Billy Moretti.”

  “What about him?” Nico leans forward. “That slimy bastard is always looking to plug both holes at the same time. What’s his problem?”

  “He wants a bigger slice of the pie. He says he’s putting in more than the other contractors and has a bigger crew. He threatened to walk if I don’t cut him a new deal.”

  “So let him walk.”

  “I can’t find anyone else who can start right away and has enough people to get this project done on time. If the work stops, the money flow stops. For fucking everyone…including you.”

  Nico nods. “So, what do you want to do about it?”

  I roll my eyes at him. “What the fuck do you think I wanna do? I want to smash in his skull!”

  “But you haven’t so far. I’m proud of you.” Nico snickers.

  “I’m damn close, though,” I mutter, taking a sip of the biting-hot liquid. My mouth twists. I really don’t like espresso, but it’s a lot like me…sharp, bitter, and hard to swallow. I know my ways didn’t always sit well with everyone in the organization, but they got shit done. Now I’m sitting here with my thumb up my ass because I can’t get people to do their damn jobs even if I wave hard cash in their faces.

  These schmucks seem to respond better when you’re holding a tire iron against their faces instead.

  I guess the threat of death is more of a driver than money.

  “You’ll handle it. I have faith in you.” Nico taps his fingertips on the desk. “Seriously, I know you’re under a lot of stress right now. Your father is flaking out, leaving all of this on you, but I want you to know we all appreciate you rescuing this project. It’s gonna mean a lot of money for all of us once it’s all finished. Nobody is going to forget who got the job done, Max.”

  I rake a hand through my hair, my throat tight. I do not want to talk about my father, and I know Nico well enough to see that the conversation is headed in a very bad direction. I need to divert. Now.

  “Are you guys going down to Miami for her spring break this year?” There. That’s a good segue. I think I heard Shaye mention something about a trip while I was fantasizing about Sloane during our drive to school the other day. That’ll keep Nico’s focus off of my father, wherever the fuck he is right now.

  Sometimes I think it’s better that I don’t know.

  Especially when I already have some pretty damn serious suspicions, ones I don’t dare share with anyone.

  Loyalty to the family comes before loyalty to anyone else…parents, siblings, children.

  That’s the code. And it’s understood by everyone.

  I’ve just been ignoring it lately, but the time will come when I will have to make a decision.

  The clock has already started. And I’m angry as fuck enough to pull the plug on him and whatever game he’s playing.

  “Nah. We talked about taking my parents and Lily, but Dad is still recovering, so I think it needs to wait a little longer.” He nods his head at me. “How about you? You thinking about taking a break
at all?”

  “With all of this shit hanging over my head? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

  “You need to get away, Max.” Nico’s voice drops. “Clear your head. Get game ready. This project is going to launch you to the top, but you need to reset. At least for a long weekend.”

  I rake a hand through my hair. “I can’t. Not yet.” I wonder what Nico knows, and what he might do if I’m suddenly out of the picture for a few days.

  My best friend always has an ear to the ground. He knows shit before anyone else. Part of it is because he’s been so ingrained in this organization, practically from birth. He sees things that most people miss, and he knows how to connect dots.

  I hate that about him. It makes it harder to keep him in the dark. And I know there’s something going on with my father, something bad. Something dangerous for all of us.

  “With Luca and Frank both gone, the Cappodamo family is effectively crushed. Moretti may have given you a few headaches, but even he’s not stupid enough to cause issues with this job. He’ll come around because we’re the big game in town now. If he wants to work, he knows it’s gonna have to be with us.”

  “You seem pretty sure of that.”

  “Who the hell else is gonna be lining his pockets? And besides, where does he get off making demands on you?”

  “I don’t know. I just feel like something is off. He’s never been this much of a prick about our arrangement before.”

  Nico shrugs and takes another sip of his espresso. “If it bothers you so much, look into it. Figure out if there really is something going on that we don’t know.”

  I watch Nico gulp the rest of his coffee and toss the empty cup into the trash basket in the corner. He doesn’t look fazed at all about this Moretti bullshit. I must be making shit up in my head. And if there was something to worry about, Nico would already have it covered. Not that he’d necessarily tell me about it. Everything is on a need-to-know basis with this family. It drives me fucking bananas sometimes, but that’s the way we roll.

  Especially Nico. He keeps shit pretty close to the vest unless he absolutely needs to let people in on it. He’s gotten fucked in the past for letting too many people in on things, and now he protects his information like it’s his kid.